


to the ends of the earth (would you follow me)

by mothicalcreatures



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, JCR220, Love Confessions, M/M, Reunions, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23657539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothicalcreatures/pseuds/mothicalcreatures
Summary: As Francis sat, listening to James press for any information about him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away from him. The grief in James’ voice was heart wrenching and left Francis feeling like someone had driven a knife into his chest. When the voices inside the tent ceased and Francis heard the crunch of boots on shale, he pulled himself to his feet. He would have someone bring James to his tent.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Sir James Clark Ross, Lady Ann Ross/Sir James Clark Ross (mentioned)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 44





	to the ends of the earth (would you follow me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ararelitus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ararelitus/gifts).



> Written for @frauncis's prompt on tumblr "unforgotten past," and also, natch, for JCR's 220th B-day.
> 
> And a big thanks to @teapig and @blasted-heath for proofreading.

Francis should have known that James Ross would be the first to come looking for them, despite his promise to Ann that he wouldn’t go to sea again. However, it hadn’t occurred to him to in the moment, when the group of white men were spotted, and Francis laid out the story to be told to them. That they were dead and gone.

Then he’d seen James, just a glimpse as he slipped inside of the tent, and he’d nearly run in right after him. But revealing himself to James would mean facing a return to England, and Francis didn’t know if could do that. Beyond the scandal it would surely be, (if Sir John had been the man who ate his boots, then Francis would surely be known forever as the captain who lost two ships and all his crew), the guilt of returning alone would smother him.

Yet as Francis sat, listening to James press for any information about him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away from him. The grief in James’ voice was heart wrenching and left Francis feeling like someone had driven a knife into his chest. When the voices inside the tent ceased and Francis heard the crunch of boots on shale, he pulled himself to his feet. He would have someone bring James to his tent.

James felt like he was in a daze as he glanced around the small Inuit camp. He slid his hand into his pocket to feel the buttons there. Francis’s buttons. There were tears pressing behind his eyes, he couldn’t believe that everyone was gone… that his dear Frank was gone. What on earth had happened?

He was startled suddenly out of his thoughts by a tug at his sleeve, and he turned to find a young boy staring up at him. The boy tugged on his sleeve again and said something very quickly that James was unable catch fully. He looked around for his interpreter, who knew this dialect better, but he was a ways off talking to someone else, bartering for something it looked like. James turned back to the boy, who now looked a bit exasperated.

“Can you repeat?” James asked.

When the boy responded, what James understood was “I’ll show you Aglooka,” which didn’t make sense, but it was easy enough to assume the boy either had information about Francis or something that had belonged to him, so he let the boy lead him toward one of the othertents.

The boy stuck his head into the tent and said something rapid fire that James could not catch beyond knowing the boy was asking for something. This was followed by a muffled response from the tent’s occupant and the boy grinned and ran off. James turned to try to call the boy back, but he had ducked into another tent before James had a chance. Sighing, James turned back to the tent, carefully scripting what he would ask in his head. Then he stepped inside and immediately lost anything he was about to say, because there was Francis, bearded and looking utterly exhausted, but very much alive.

His breath caught in his throat. “Frank…”

The tears that had been threatening before finally spilled over as James surged forward to pull Francis into an embrace. When Francis returned the embrace in kind it was all James could do to keep his sobs from overwhelming him.

As James’ sobs subsided Francis pulled back some, shifting to make room for James to sit next to him on his bedding. “I’m sorry for my deceit, I truly am.”

James shook his head, gripping Francis’s arms tightly and staring at him like he was something that might disappear at any moment. “Why…?”

Francis hung his head. “I hadn’t known it was you. I wouldn’t have…” What would he have done differently? If he’d known it was James, what would it have changed? He didn’t have a good answer to that.

There was a choked noise from James and Francis looked up. James’ face was pained. “You never intended to be found.” His voice cracked. “You wouldn’t have come home.”

“No,” Francis admitted. “I don’t think I could bear it.”

“Oh Frank,” James breathed, letting his hands trail down Francis’s arms, intending to take his hands. He gave a sharp intake of breath, gaze dropping from Francis’s face to his hands, when he realized there was only one hand to take.

“What _happened_?”

Where to even begin answering that. “Everything that could have gone wrong did, and more that we could never have even begun to prepare ourselves for.” Francis swallowed, James had been told about the Tuunbaq and hadn’t understood it, just the way they hadn’t at first. He squeezed James’ hand, picking somewhere easier to start. “It began when Erebus’s propeller struck ice. It wasn’t wholly useless, but it was well crippled…”

It was a distressing story to hear, and when Francis’ finished telling him of the disaster of their Carnivale, James brought him to a stop. Francis’s hand was trembling in his and James drew him in to a loose embrace once more. “That’s enough for now,” he murmured. “There will be time later.”

Francis looked hesistant when he drew back and James knew that Francis still did not mean to leave. The ache in his chest that had begun to ease was now suddenly tight and sharp again.

“You would be welcome back, you know. From all you have told me, even thus far, no one could lay the blame on you,” James said softly. “There is already talk of ‘if just one survivor could be found that would be enough.’”

In a moment of surprising daring, James released Francis’s hand to cup his cheek instead. “It is already more than enough for me. Come back with me, I beg you.”

Francis’s eyes were wet with unshed tears. “James, I… I cannot face returning to a life that is lost to so many good men.”

There were many arguments that James could think to give, many of which seemed horribly superficial and meaningless compared to the great tragedy that had taken place. He could say that Francis would be able to bring comfort and answers to the families of those lost, but Francis himself needed comfort as well.

“Have you found peace here then?” James asked, pulling his hand back from Francis’s face only to have Francis catch it and hold it tight once more.

Francis was quiet for a moment before he answered. “Some. Not fully, I’m not sure I’ll ever achieve that.”

“I don’t want to take that away from you Francis, truly, but I’ll also admit to being horribly selfish when it comes to you,” James sighed, letting the hand Francis was holding come to rest on the blankets beneath them. “I won’t force you.” His breath hitched. “I could live knowing that you’re alive and well here, I suppose.”

“You suppose,” Francis said softly. He ran his thumb over James’ knuckles. He had always struggled with saying no to any of James’ requests, even when they were foolish or ridiculous, never mind the serious ones. “I’m not sure what I would even return to…”

“Me,” James replied without hesitation. “I wouldn’t hear of you living anywhere else, though I imagine Lady Jane will try to insist. I…” James trailed off, a flash of concern crossing his face.

“I would have you live with myself and Ann,” James began again, slowly. “Permanently, if you’d like. Our home in Buckinghamshire is well removed, you’d have plenty of privacy, save when little James gets it in his head that he wants your attention more than anything else. I assure you, you won’t be immune.”

Francis chuckled and James, hearing that, smiled.

“That does sound quite pleasant,” Francis admitted. His heart ached at the thought, peaceful and quiet was how he’d like to spend the rest of his days, but was that possible if he was intwined in James and Ann’s domesticity. He knew well now that Sophia’s rejection had never really been what he was running from.

James posture was tense, Francis noted, in a way it hadn’t been up until now, and he frowned. He wanted to ask James what was the matter, but well… a lot was the matter presently.

“Frank… have you…? Do you…?” James trailed off again with a huff, frustrated with something.

This time Francis did intend to say something, but he didn’t get the chance, because that was when James leaned in and kissed him.

It was a foolish thing to do, but he had no idea how to broach the matter of his feelings for Francis in words. He’d tried, and it hadn’t worked. He had meant for the kiss to be quick, so he could pull away to see Francis’s reaction and/or save himself from further embarrassment if he’d horribly miscalculated. What he did not expect was for Francis to kiss him back. 

When they did finally break apart, James still found himself unable to summon any words. But Francis looked worried, his brow furrowed in concern, and James needed to say _something._

“I meant it. I… I love you Frank. When I was told you’d died I didn’t think I’d known anything more painful.”

Francis swallowed, his eyes never leaving James. There was something open and raw in his face that James prayed would not lead to anything bad.

“I don’t understand,” Francis said at length. “You have Ann… you…”

James took Francis’s pause to attempt to explain himself further. “Ann is… wonderfully understanding. I don’t love her less… but she sees no reason I can’t love her and you both. And as I said, I am rather selfish when it comes to you.”

There was a beat and then Francis withdrew his hand and James’ heart sunk.

Francis let out a long breath, as much at a loss for words as James had been before. He had spent years carefully hiding such feelings of his own for James, and now… now all that had come crashing down. “How long?”

James worried his hands together, his gaze falling to his lap as he fretted, and Francis immediately regretted letting go of James’ hand. “I’m not sure. You’ve always been dear to me as a friend. I suppose I never noticed when things changed, because you were always there before.” He blinked back tears. “I never had reason to think you might not be.”

Francis reached out to James then, cupping his cheek as James had done to him earlier. “I am here now, James,” he said softly. “And… and I’d say you’ve given me more than enough reason to stay with you.”

James eyes shot up to meet Francis’s. “You’ll come back with me?”

“Yes. Despite all my reservations, yes,” Francis said, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of James’ mouth, tipping their foreheads together. “You are more dear to me than anything, and you have been for many years now.”

James let out a choked noise that Francis thought might have been either a sob or a rather hysterical laugh. Then James sat back abruptly with a horrified expression on his face.

“That was why you got so distant after I married Ann, Christ I’m a fool.”

“You are _not_ ,” Francis said fiercely, gripping James’ shoulder. “I took pains to conceal the depths of my affection. I will admit that it was rather difficult to see you married, but you clearly placed your affections well seeing how sympathetic Ann is to your affection for me.”

That didn’t seem to comfort James any. “You were still so melancholy when you left and I _encouraged_ you to go on this expedition…”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself for this,” Francis snapped, perhaps more harshly than he meant. “This is the furthest thing from your fault. You encouraged me yes, but I went for more reasons than that alone, _and_ you have yet to hear the end of the story. There many people in this who should shoulder blame, but you are not among them.”

James slumped where he sat and Francis tugged him forward so that James was leaning against his chest. “I still feel horrid Frank,” he muttered.

“I won’t say you’ll feel less horrid for hearing me tell the rest of the story, but if you’ll let me finish, perhaps you’ll be more willing to place the blame on the correct people,” Francis said. “Starting with the Admiralty for going with the low bidder for our food supplier…” 

“You mention the food was rotting,” James said, closing his eyes as he rested his head against Francis’s shoulder.

“Yes, and more than that. Something about Goldner’s process caused lead to leach into the food, meaning it had been poisoning us from the moment we started eating it.”

James listened with increasing horror and sorrow as Francis took him through the rest of the tale, the start of their long walk, the mutiny, the continued horrific loss of life.

“If you give me a map, I may be able to point to where some are buried,” Francis said. “If you wanted to trek back.”

James shook his head slightly, pushing himself more upright to stretch out his back and grimacing as it cracked. “This was our furthest point, we need to head back to the ships starting tomorrow. Our tinned supplies have proved rather unfavorable as well, though on the side of half empty rather than spoiled or poisoned.” He paused. “You haven’t changed your mind about returning have you?”

“No, James,” Francis said, looking at him fondly in a way that made James feel flushed. “My suggestion about the map was merely… I had thought that perhaps some things could be brought back… for the men’s families…”

“Of course,” James said gently, reaching for Francis again. “If we don’t cross your trail on the way back, I’m sure we can convince someone to come back. I rather imagine Lady Jane will insist upon it.”

Francis nodded slowly, leaning into James’ touch when his hand came to rest on his cheek. “Will you stay with me here for the night or will we need to head straight for your camp?”

“I’ll stay here with you, I imagine you’ll want to say your goodbyes, and give explanations.” James said, letting his hand trail down to rest on Francis’s shoulder. “I’ll send my interpreter back ahead of us though, so the men at camp won’t be concerned. I had intended to return today.”

Francis glanced toward the tent flap. “He may be looking for you, since we have been talking for some time.”

James followed Francis’s gaze to the tent’s opening and sighed. “That is likely… I ought to go find him.”

“Go do that then,” Francis said. “I’ll begin packing up my things.” He didn’t have much, that was true, but he had enough, and he knew James would want to leave early in the morning. It would be best if all he had to do in the morning was pack his bedding and collapse the tent.

James hesitated, his hand tightening on Francis’s shoulder. Francis reached up rest his hand atop James’. “I’ll still be here when you get back. I won’t disappear.”

“You know, for a moment I did… I did fear I might have lost my senses and imagined all of this,” James admitted, turning back to Francis.

Francis squeezed James hand one last time, before James let go andgot to his feet.

“I won’t be long,” James said, before he slipped out of the tent.

That night, curled up with Francis in his tent, James felt the weight of grief in his chest begin to ease. It was hardly the end of things, there would be much more for both him and Francis to do before things were settled, but for now… For now it was enough just to have Francis warm and alive in arms.

Francis shifted, pressing a small kiss to James’ neck. “I know you’re awake.”

“You know me too well,” James murmured. “But I _was_ dropping off before you said anything.”

Francis chuckled and James grinned.

“Do you remember when we were in Van Diemen’s Land, and had our hammocks slung up in the observatory?”

Francis huffed. “Do you mean when you tried to climb into my hammock, after I told you we both wouldn’t fit, and then we both wound up on the floor?”

His voice was light with laughter and it made James’ smile widen. “I’ll admit to perhaps not having thought that one through, but all I’d meant to say was that I’d missed this… getting to lie so close to you.”

“I have as well,” Francis said, shifting imperceptibly closer to James.

“We’ll certainly…” James cut himself off with a yawn. “We’ll certainly have to see about rearranging the bedrooms at the house.”

Francis let out a long sigh against James’ neck. “I love you.”

James felt his breath hitch in his throat. He didn’t think he would ever tired of hearing Francis say that. He pressed a kiss to Francis’s forehead. “I love you too, my dear Frank.”


End file.
